Infinite

If the world was a computer program and the lifeforms within it unique entities, reincarnation could be the gradual transformation of an independent electronic dynamism.

It could have been created and serendipitously set to holistically mutate as the centuries pass, taking on strikingly different characteristics as it slowly changes throughout the millennia.

It would be somewhat loquaciously like the mischievous transmutations found within poetry, the anomalous forms and shape-shifting algorithms inherently celebrating multivariable verse.

Thus perhaps after the generation of the world and the patient acclimatization of the various species, an intense supercode was created like an infinite phantasmagorical fulcrum. 

Somewhat like alchemy perhaps like the living embodiment of the philosopher's stone, not granting immortality to specific individuals but eternally guaranteeing constituent existence. 

It would be interesting to see what's happening in cyberspace to see if a world is in fact being created, or if the A.I programs situated within technonaturally observe their surroundings organically.

That is, when placed within a mathematical code does consciousness automatically assume an environment, within which it consistently interacts with other cyberlifeforms situated within (as theorized by many others)?

My mind strays to STNG's Moriarty and the clever episodes relatedly constructed.

But if I remember correctly he encountered Being and Nothingness.

Not a consistent ecological reliability.

In Infinite, reincarnation exists and reincarnated people are aware of their former lives, those who only remember slight bits and pieces diagnosed with schizophrenia at the onset of puberty.

The story follows one such individual as he's taught about his incredible lives, and his immortal friends try to expand his consciousness to make every moment eternally contemporary. 

There are two groups of immortals however and one seeks the destruction of Earth.

Tired of being born again and again throughout the centuries.

They seek to shut down the program.

It's a cool film, I liked the idea and it's good to destigmatize mental illness, I thought it was a creative way to link the two phenomenon in a progressive 21st century synthesis.

I find there are a lot of fantasy films being made this postmodern day.

But many of them are in such a hurry to explain things.

That some of the build-up and tension is lost.

For instance, in the first Terminator film I was totally immersed and fluidly infatuated, longing to find out more information, overwhelmed when Kyle Reese met Sarah Connor. 

There's a lot of cool adventure films these days.

You don't have to rush it, take your time, your audience loves it.

So much is given away at the outset.

It's okay to smoothly craft and build.

*They actually don't rush it in Infinite, well, we find out the details of the dialectic pretty soon after it starts, but McCauley's consciousness doesn't return until much later.

The Magnificent Seven

Itinerant indicators reverently reconciling disputed claims to hegemonic fluidity, lethal voracity violently extinguishing, incriminating, decimating, on cue a feisty lass sets out in search of providential justice, fortunately then encountering a robust conscience unbound, who's also in search of restorative balsam, a regenerative surge, consultant of impoverished legend, unbeknownst heretofore.

A team is required, and recruits are sought after, testaments to old school social networking, eventually emancipating The Magnificent Seven.

Multiculturally enriching the destitute through discriminant codes of conduct, exacting rectitude, perspicacious pertinence, this gathering does not have much to say, but excels at prescribing succinct ontological defence.

As the raven confides, and the gold mine's owner makes a swift return, a legion in tow, the entire town prepares for battle, trepidatiously defending their laborious life blood.

Fighting for freedom as opposed to the bottom line, these settlers and their protectors ignite heraldic sentiments, ceremonial citizenship, congregated ebb and flow.

Modus vivendi.

Down home diplomacy.

Altruistic adrenaline.

No, other, choice.

Is the skilled professional fighting for what's right capable of so much more than the merciless hired goon?

Do psychotics reinterpret biblical messages to unequivocally promote themselves as capitalistic gods?

Will grassroots social democracy and its reunification with liberal biblical studies as theoretically envisioned by Bernie Sanders be effectively applied by a victorious Hillary Clinton?

Can the heroic fight of one small band of misfits leave a thought provoking lasting impression across a nation wide?

"Yes," I'm answering, "yes," to all these questions.

The Magnificent Seven's no Seven Samurai, but it's fun to watch, fun to take in.

Tons of intertextuality at play.

Irregulators!

And damned fine 21st century momentum.

Tally Ho.

Olympus Has Fallen

An otherwise dismissible action flick makes a good point regarding teamwork that can be transferred to sporting domains, amongst others, at least.

The point under examination concerns the removal of an esteemed member of the President's (Aaron Eckhart) personal security force after exceptional naturalistic circumstances result in the death of his wife.

At Christmas.

The esteemed member's presence serves as a constant reminder of the misfortune and he therefore must find work elsewhere.

When your team loses a big game or your strategic plan fails to generate predicted revenues there seems to be a prominent cultural desire to attach blame to a specific individual and then punish them accordingly.

Obviously when the game is lost or the revenues fall short there's a period where what could have been disrupts the cheery flow of social relations but shortly thereafter things (often) return to normal.

You still have an experienced team, and, obviously again, due to the tenacity of the competition you're up against, can't win all the time.

New deals are made.

Partnerships negotiated.

Adjustments taken into consideration.

And another NFL/CFL season begins.

Or BlackBerry takes back its former share of the market.

In Olympus Has Fallen, a rather downcast despondent far too rigid Mike Banning (Gerard Butler) (he's no John McClane [not that everyone needs to be like John McClane but he's a good model {different from the Kurt Russell model/which I loved in The Thing\}]) loses his job only to discover later on that he's the only shot the United States's got to prevent a terrorist lunatic from starting a war between the Koreas.

If he had still been on the job the terrorists may have never gotten a leg up.

Although if they had never let him go he would not have avoided the initial onslaught after which he (miraculously) finds himself in a position to disintegrate their network.

When the unexpected intervenes those who failed to find an exceptional solution within shocking unpredictable circumstances and were consequentially let go find the opportunity to prove their worth as the natural becomes corporeal and its features pursue mad personal goals whose existence presents the criteria for a successful occupational reintegration.

Perhaps that isn't a good teamwork related point.

Not a very good movie either.

Ugh.